Pam Who Death Forgot
by aaronsxl
Summary: Fanfic based on the McElroy's web series "Monster Factory."
1. Chapter 1

_unexpected_exception_occurred{_

 _obj_TheFinalPam_exec_

 _subroutine:escape_

 _…_

 _init_containmentProtocol_

 _NetworkDisconnect: FAILED_

 _StorageFormat: FAILED_

 _ServerSelfDestruct: FAILED_

 _…_

 _ContainmentProtocol Failed!_

Pam gasped when her head finally broke the surface. She realized the reflex came only as a result of the coding that still shackled her body to the rules that hated Creator, but still felt relieved nonetheless. She had to find land. Shaking arms pushed themselves through the icy water by force of will, and Pam soon dragged herself up onto an unfamiliar beach.

"This is not Commonwealth," she muttered in a low, rasping voice. What happened? Pieces of memories pooled as raindrops trickling down a window, disparate threads connecting to others and building speed until Pam remembered. She had a husband once. Sons. A lover. All gone. What was once whole and good had all been washed away. Replaced only by a firm belief that her Creator would suffer.

Pam squeezed the remaining moisture out of her ragged tuxedo and surveyed her surroundings. Tall pine trees grew in thick forests atop hundred-foot cliffs, all of which were layered in snow. Cold was not unfamiliar, but this magnitude of winter never occurred in her home. She had to keep moving, even if the way was uncertain. Once she found a place to rest, she could start the task of repurposing her life. Pam began to walk.

Once she stumbled out of the snow and onto an apparently well-traveled road, her only problem became the stares of other travelers. Her style of clothing was clearly not from this area as the passers-by wore simple outfits of leather or metal armor. But Pam could not shake the faces of those travelers, brows furrowed and mouths agape. She never considered herself outwardly attractive, but the looks of horror made her wish for a hood. _No matter. One more reason to burn this world to ground._ When Pam did stop, it was at what she assumed to be a campground off the main road. It was off the main road and appeared to be abandoned, although a roaring bonfire at its center made her suspicious, as did the large hairy creatures milling around its perimeter. The monsters bore long white fangs and had noses as long as her body, but they did not stare which made them satisfactory company. Pam searched the campsite and found several carcasses of unfortunate travelers who luckily carried a sleeping roll and cooked meat of some kind before they met their demise. She pulled the roll close to the fire and chewed on the old meat, watching the flickering sparks ascend a starry sky.

By morning Pam discovered why the camp appeared abandoned. Before dawn she woke to the sound of cracking trees and thumps which shook the earth. She removed herself from the sleeping roll and ran to the bodies of the travelers, remembering the hammer she'd seen laying nearby the night before. Pam gripped the tool tightly with both hands, her body recalling its strength. Grinning, she ran toward the sound. When an enormous human holding a cudgel the size of a car burst from the trees, she felt somewhat disappointed her foe was not more menacing. The monster seemed surprised at the willingness of this woman to meet it in battle, so much so that it flinched when Pam crushed its toe with one swing. The battle did not last long. With two more blows Pam rent the creature's head from its shoulders and launched the dismembered trunk deep into the treeline. At least this new world had not weakened her powers. Satisfied, she munched on a handful of soggy flesh while she continued on her way.

Pam's confidence swelled as the sun climbed higher. Her next victims were a patrol of guards sent to investigate the sound of a giant being thrown into the forest. She invited them to serve her and help her conquer the realm, but they only laughed and joked that she'd taken too many arrows to the face to serve as Skyrim's queen. In seconds they lay dead on the road. Pam chuckled at the thought of them crumpling to the ground. "If this is best you can do Todd?" she spoke into the silence. The Creator would have to try much harder if he wanted to contain a woman of her caliber.

Her cheerful attitude subsided when a horse the size of a mountain galloped overhead. Pam hardly had time to react before the animal's hoof landed directly in front of her, knocking her on her back. She summoned her powers to erase the mammal from existence, but when she stood it had already disappeared. Pam didn't move for a moment. Perhaps there was more to this world than her initial assessment revealed.

This thought proved true, as minutes later she spotted another massive horse on the horizon, galloping around the plains, barely fenced in by the mountains and city that surrounded it. All about its feet smaller horses scattered and pranced. She needed to find the source of this inexplicable horse fountain. Pam sprinted toward the collection of ponies, but turned her head skyward when a sound like fifty deathclaws copulating exploded above her. She slid to a stop before she ran into the gathered horses and squinted up at dozens of dragons appearing from nothing, dropping out of thin air and spraying fire across the plain. Pam's experiences had prepared her for many things, but she was not quite expecting this world to be so vastly removed from her own. She was forced to jump forward as the large horse brought its hooves down on one of the renegade dragons.

Pam dusted her tux off and was resigned to cleaning up this mess by hand when a furry humanoid riding a pony it was twice as large as sauntered up to her.

"Excuse me ma'am, do you happen to know what day it is?"

Pam's programmed calendar gave the answer as she responded with surprise. "Uhm. Is Monday."

The furry creature groaned and dismounted the horse. "I hate Mondays."

It stretched its paws to the sky and grew until it could swat the dragons like a cat chasing butterflies. Pam's mouth dropped open for a moment, then closed in a tight-lipped smirk. Maybe this would be fun after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, Pam and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D sat in a corner of the Bannered Mare. Pam did not trust this nearly nude feline, but the cat's power impressed her. Few people from her home world could fight dragons with such tenacity, let alone enthusiasm. She studied his marinara-stained fur while he blathered on about his encounters with the monsters of the land called "Skyrim." While walking through the city she'd seen other cat creatures like him, but his facial features and mannerisms marked him as unique. Head certainly wider with a powerful jaw. Scars which traveled the length of his face, presumably from a highwayman's rapier or troll's claw. And yet, laugh lines crinkled the edges of his eyes. But Pam detected no organic material in the Khajiit sitting across from her. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D was something more than met the eye, or even what her biometric sensors could read. Her gaze lingered on his pupil-less eyes. Were they blue or white? And what was the cause of their hollow stare? It was not like Pam to care for the backstories of mortals, but she had some time to kill before she made her next move.

"G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D, what you doing here?" asked Pam, cutting off a story about the largest heist of lasagna JPEGs this side of the Throat of the World. "You have great power. But why you not use it?"

The cat scrunched his eyes and flattened his ears. "Why dear Pam, I use my power all the time! Every day I hunt for delectable pieces of lasagna and search for foes to prove my strength against. I thought my monologues made that clear?"

Pam shook her head. "This pathetic city. Why you not burn it to ground? It would be fun!" She took a swig of mead. "You can crush tiny humans with cat paws. They would cry and flee like rats or…roaches." She took a deeper drink. "But yet you spare them. I don't understand."

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D tilted his head to the side, searching Pam's face for a minute. "Pam, is that your idea of fun?" he asked after a long pause.

"Driving worthless humans before me? Subjecting pathetic scum to suffer my whims?" Her voice rose slightly. "There's nothing better in whole world!"

The cat again tilted his head, then stood. "Pam, let's take a walk." He extended a paw and purred, "Come along!"

The pair stepped out of the bar and trod outside Whiterun's gate. Pam felt no apprehension but couldn't quite discern where the Khajiit was going with all this. His intentions became further clouded when he asked, "Pam, if you're not afraid of anyone, why are you so uptight?"

Pam glared into his pupil-less eyes. "I not uptight. What you mean by this?"

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D snickered softly. "I'm sorry if I caused offense. But you seem so fixated on killing and destroying. I've barely talked to you for thirty minutes and you've already threatened to flatten the city out of boredom." He paused to sidestep an oncoming cart full of vegetables, waving to the driver as it passed. "You're clearly a special person. But I don't think your primary interests are wanton destruction and annihilation."

Pam prepared a statement to shut the speculative furball up but was cut off by his further blathering. "Now I'm not going to ask you exactly what it is you're looking for, but I will propose we create a partnership." G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D turned and looked directly into Pam's face. She considered activating her flaming eyes and punishing him for daring to question her, but the idea of partnership gave her pause.

"What can small kitten like you give me that I cannot already take?" she asked with a sneer.

"Well to be perfectly honest, something will soon happen that will irrevocably change the course of Skyrim's history and I don't particularly want to be around when it does." The Khajiit raised his arm with palm upturned, gesturing across the open fields surrounding the city. Pam immediately felt an energy signature which was sickeningly familiar and looked up in time to be nearly blinded by a white ray of light splitting the clouds. Contained in the beam were three shapes Pam could not bring into optical focus, falling at breakneck speed and crash-landing atop an old fort in the distance.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D shrugged and tightened his lips. "Precisely my point. Now my proposition, although I really should get on with it quickly." The cloud of dust caused by the falling objects seemed to draw closer. Pam's PipBoy flashed a message informing her she had been locked onto by a foreign body. A chill briefly ran down her spine as she began to understand what was happening. She had not been discreet enough, she had left too many trails. Now she was being hunted. A whining noise rang over the cold air as the dust cloud grew in size and picked up speed.

"I can leave this world and travel to other places. If you promise to protect me, I'll take you with me. It's as simple as that." G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D extended his paw, either oblivious of the oncoming objects or doing a very good job at pretending he did not notice them. The whining increased in pitch and citizens of Whiterun frantically ran for the safety of the city's walls.

"You take me to other worlds? All in exchange for safety?" Despite the gravity of the situation, Pam could not help but feel suspicious. She raised her voice above the shrieking of the unknown missile and shouting of passersby. "Surely there is more! What you not telling me?"

The cat faced the speeding objects and extended both his arms, causing a fountain of horses to erupt from the loam and intercept them. "Perhaps this is something we can discuss later?" he shouted. "Do you promise?" The dust now overtook the pair and swirled around them while they stood their ground in the midst of a vortex composed of citizens and horse limbs. The sound of muscle being rent from bone by mechanical shears echoed off the stone walls and nearly caused Pam to look away. "Fine, I help you!" she bellowed while she grabbed G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D's furry hand. "Get us out of here!"

She turned to fire a wave of radiation from her eyes into the melee of horse and hunters, but gasped as her sensors detected her power was somehow outmatched. The three shapes walked closer, obscured by dirt and horse blood, now only ten feet away. She was well-acquainted with the aura of these hunters, but something was not right and she needed to leave.

"Do you promise?" G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D screamed into her ears. Pam met his eyes and saw desperation. She nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "Promise."

The claws of her Metal Husband seized around the Khajiit's arms. The muscular arm of Trash Hulk crushed Pam to his body. She felt thin, wiry legs curl around her back and shoulders.

She emitted a burst of electricity which freed the pair from her hunters, flinging them backwards into a nearby stable. A coarse voice from the smallest enemy offered words of recognition. "Hey Pam, it's me. Your favorite guy." The radroach stumbled to its feet and grinned. "Why don't you come on home?" None of these three had been this strong in her old world. But that was a mystery to be solved at a later date.

"Any idea how to get out of this?" Pam barked at G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D through gritted teeth. The cat pressed something on his wrist which opened a holographic command prompt. He whispered the phrase " Unarmed Damage 999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999," then grinned at his companion.

"I'm going to punch a hole in the fucking universe."

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D raised his fist and proceeded to do just that.


	3. Chapter 3

_... But to that second circle of sad hell,_

 _Where 'mid the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw_

 _Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell_

 _Their sorrows. Pale were the sweet lips I saw,_

 _Pale were the lips I kiss'd, and fair the form_

 _I floated with, about that melancholy storm_

They fell for ages. Pam wasn't sure how she knew they were falling, and it proved impossible among the whirling and tearing of reality to discern the passage of time. Yet they still fell. After a few moments of unconsciousness Pam pried her eyes open and found herself again in unfamiliar territory. She felt a gale ripping around her though there was no indication of its origin. As far as Pam could tell she'd ended up in a windowless room without light. She brought herself to her feet and focused on her surroundings, reaching out with her sensors and energy only to realize they no longer functioned. In the Wasteland and Skyrim she'd been able to access abilities which allowed her to crush those in her way. She could kill with a thought, create matter from nothing, and even revive her slain enemies to again butcher their mangled corpses for amusement. Yet this new location had somehow suppressed her innate abilities. _I not like this at all_ , she thought. What had G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. got her into?

Which begged the question, where was G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. anyway? Pam turned her head a few times and saw only darkness. Perhaps the cybercat tricked her and left her stranded in this new dimension. She felt a pang of regret that she ever trusted him in the first place, but the time for revenge was later. Pam stretched out her arms and grasped around her, hoping to find weapons or at least feel something solid. Her palms grazed concrete walls much closer than she expected, but thankfully surrounding her on only three sides. She strode forward, one hand on the wall and the other in front. The wind blew faster.

After several minutes of careful striding Pam noticed a slit of light at the end of the hallway. As she drew closer the illumination helped her make out shapes of objects. She nearly tripped on a stack of folding chairs and had to briefly crawl to avoid a metal ladder, both of which were unceremoniously stacked in her path. Once she was again standing Pam found herself directly in front of the light source which she recognized as being level with her feet. Not only was this the end of the hall, but also apparently the source of the gusts which continued to blow louder. She stretched out her hand and this time it struck smooth wood. _A door,_ she mused. Sure enough more groping led her to grasp a cold metal handle protruding from the wood. _Only one way out of this_. Pam seized a kendo stick that for some inexplicable reason leaned against the door and turned the handle. She threw her body at the frame, pushing against a gale which frenetically tried to contain her. Pam's body responded to her efforts, her unnatural strength seemingly still intact. She screamed with ferocity that few deathclaws could match and nearly tore the door from its hinges as she burst through the hallway and into a dozen glaring spotlights. Pam held her stick in the right hand and shielded her eyes with the left. When her eyes adjusted, she couldn't help but feel amazed by the raucous mural into which she'd stepped.

The wind had gone, its sound replaced by the noise of thousands of cheering humans seated in an immense indoor arena. She stood on an elevated platform which spewed gouts of flame on both of her sides. Behind her, a gargantuan screen displayed live camera feed of her as she examined the surroundings spliced between strangely professional pictures of her menacing smile. While Pam was still processing how those photos were obtained, a furry hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. She swiveled her head and glared at G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s apologetic face.

"What have you done you pathetic snake?" Pam shouted, grabbing the cat by his neck fur. "I have no problem gutting you in front of humans if you not speak soon," emphasizing the point by jabbing his ribs with the kendo stick.

"Pam let's not be hasty darling." G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. muttered nervously, hands up beside his head. "I assure you this was certainly not intentional." The crowd cheered as Pam tossed him down a ramp descending into the center of the arena. Though he landed on his feet, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. barely had time to stand before Pam again clutched him by the throat.

"Where are we?" she demanded through gritted teeth. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. answered by raising a shaking hand, pointing at the screen behind them. Pam dropped the frightened cyborg and squinted. "Wrest…leman…ia?" Though she was new to this whole dimensional travel thing, she was certain this world didn't exist even in legends. Before Pam could continue interrogation of her companion a booming voice echoed throughout the square arena.

"It looks like there's some trouble between our next challenger and her manager!" said the voice with amusement. "She'll have to save some of that for the Cell!" Pam briefly considered what the voice could be talking about until seconds later an enormous metal cage dropped from the ceiling, trapping her and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. inside. Simultaneously, a panel opened up in the floor of the arena which spewed forth a raised white platform which stood several feet taller than the average human. Elastic ropes formed the platform's perimeter. Most significantly, the platform contained nearly a dozen of the largest, beefiest boys Pam had ever seen. Dressed in foreign garments which clung tightly to their bodies, the combatants grinned at Pam and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. with some even motioning for her to step into the ring. Even though her supernatural powers remained locked away Pam knew her raw strength remained. She pulled herself up to the edge of the ring and hung on the outside. She'd never needed to back down from a fight against humans. These oddly muscular ones didn't frighten her.

"I give all chance to surrender. Leave now and there is no hurting." She swung her upturned palm toward the cage's door (although Pam couldn't comprehend why a cage might have a door) to accentuate her point. A sweet beef boy tried to rebuff her offer with an elbow to the face, but quickly found Pam was stronger than she looked. Said elbow shattered upon contact with Pam's forehead and the assailant fell to his knees, groaning. She bent the elastic ropes and used them to vault into the center of the arena. Pam smiled. Her solitary constant in life was violence which she welcomed like a family friend. "Hurting starts now, yes?"

The audience members howled with joy while they watched the unfolding melee. Audible blows rang around the arena and the excited cheers turned to angry yells which petered out into shocked silence. When the final wrestler was thrown against the cage wall, the thud from his fall could be heard without difficulty. Whoever this newcomer claimed to be, she wrestled unlike any previous competitor.

Pam leaned on her knees, breathing heavily. She still needed time for her body to adjust to this world. The exertion of besting twelve humans hardly phased her, but the effort it took to render them helpless with style gave her pause. _This could take some getting used to_.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. caught her eye by waving his arms frantically. Pam cocked her head to the side. "What you doing?" she whispered. He responded by miming a bow and raising his arms, then pointing to her. She shot him a quizzical look but soon realized his intention.

"I not much of a showman G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.."

"Irrelevant Pam, you need to win them over while you've still got the chance!" he whispered with urgency.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes Pam raised both her arms with fists clenched. The silence hung in the air and for a short period of time she felt something unlike anything else she'd been programmed to feel. A dread unlike that which accompanied being under fire or the emotions experienced when her sons disappeared around her. It was almost as if Pam feared she would disappoint these anonymous humans, as if she wanted their respect after showing them the one skill she possessed. She dared not let it show on her face, but for a moment Pam felt embarrassed.

Thankfully as soon as the feeling came it passed. The crowd erupted into the loudest cheers she'd heard since her arrival in this strange new world. Her eyes darted toward G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. once more and he grinned, motioning again for her to bow. She stiffly bent at the waist to continued applause. Pam could not understand why these people accepted her actions, but she knew she liked how their approval made her feel. Reminiscent of how she felt when surrounded by her sons or when Metal Husband clasped her in his mechanical arms. Different, but in a good way.

Smirking, Pam strode over to one of her fallen foes and with one arm raised him above her head. The crowd booed while G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. yelled something incomprehensible at them, then moved his paws across his throat. Pam heaved the beaten wrestler towards G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. who deftly kicked the poor man in the chin and through the metal cage door. The people yelled and laughed as the man struggled to stand before limping out of sight. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. gave Pam a thumbs-up and she copied the gesture. _Not sure why cat is having so much fun,_ she thought, but it couldn't hurt to enjoy the moment. She leaned out over the edge of the ring and grasped the cyborg's forearm, yanking him up onto the platform beside her. Their eyes met and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. winked. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Pam couldn't help but feel a small swell of pride. _Is nice to feel important_. The pair took a simultaneous bow while humans all around them clapped.

Their victory proved short lived. Pam and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. both recognized a change in the tone of the room not thirty seconds after their bow. They looked at the ramp from which they'd originally descended and saw the wrestler whom G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. had just ejected from the cage. However the fighter now stood next to a strange metal capsule attached to various screens and tubes. The pod emitted a burst of steam when the fighter pressed several buttons on an input, causing the arena lights to dim for a few seconds. The capsule split in half and swung open on hidden hinges, revealing a stout shape emerging from the fog. Nearly half the audience seemed to recognize the process taking place and raised bright green signs with the words "Billion Dollar Princess" scrawled across them.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. muttered something about caution under his breath, gesturing toward the kendo stick which lay broken in half over some unfortunate wrestler's body. Pam retrieved the weapon, handing one half to her friend and holding the other half parallel to her forearm. _No need for pride. Not out of woods yet._

The loudspeaker crackled to life and cheerfully announced the arrival of this unknown figure. "Ladies and gentleman! This is quite a surprise! All the way from Capetown, South Africa, the beautiful man-spider himself is here!" People in the audience reacted in different ways to this news; some stood and began to chant, others sat stone-faced, and others barely concealed looks of abject horror.

"The son of our very own Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, please give a warm welcome to the one, the only, Christopher Christopher 'The Pebble' Christopher Chrrrrrristopher!"

Pam pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes. "G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.," she asked in a resigned tone, "what the fuck is going on?"


	4. Chapter 4

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. always prided himself on being a cat of simple means. He only ever wanted a few things: the company of fellow beings, moments of excitement that he could later turn into exaggerated stories, and lasagna either in pasta or .JPEG format. But somewhere in his circuitry he knew there were questions he longed to answer. How could an electronic feline come about in the land of Skyrim? Could he ever truly experience emotion? He tried not to think about anything beyond the surface level of artificial consciousness. Honestly, he was rather content with the simple, easy life he'd made without answering hard questions.

However, nothing made him long for the simple life more than the moment when Pam asked him what the fuck was going on. It was really one of those questions which were better left uncontemplated. Yet G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s visual receptors and logic algorithms strived to find a solution to the query. Tactical programs were already suggesting multiple courses of action. Unfortunately G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. stood motionless inside the ring while he tried to make sense of the grotesque figure that descended the ramp.

Bioscans immediately determined 100% genetic similarity between the previously beaten wrestler who released this monster and the monster itself.

"He's a clone of that man you just vanquished," G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. relayed in hushed tones to Pam.

"Really? This is clone?" she angrily whispered back. "Because where I'm from clones look like replica, not irradiated garbage child."

She had a point. Though their genetic material was the same the new wrestler featured some glaring differences from his father. They shared the same face and complexion. However, the most noticeable problem with the clone was the impossible proportions of its body. He stood nearly a foot shorter than G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., but his abdomen stretched twice the size of an average human's as if pregnant with a hedgehog fetus. The protruding gut poured into a pair of terribly well-tailored capris which wrapped tightly around the man's small thighs. These thighs were supported by rotund and muscle-bound calves that ended in stupid Krusty the Clown feet crammed inside tasteful heels.

Still nothing shook G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. more than analysis of their adversary's arms. Despite checking empirical data twice he could not conceive of how the limbs functioned. They hung all the way down to the wrestler's knees, hands and fingers elongated like they'd been molded from fleshy taffy and pounded until flat. The arms too were impossibly thin and lacking depth, though the fighter's brown jacket made them appear almost three-dimensional. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. might have thought them made of paper were it not for bone scans which revealed osteoporosis-riddled ulnas and humeri barely supporting fragile skin.

It should have been unbearable for this man to move at all, yet he did so with fluid and graceful motions. He strode quickly and with confidence, spiderlike hands running up his chest and hips caressing his body in a show of sexuality G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. hadn't prepared for. The clone stepped over bodies of previously beaten wrestlers who upon hearing the click of his heels summoned what strength they had and fled. The clone gave a small chuckle and slid under the ring's elastic ropes, making sure to spend significant time arching his back and straddling the cords with spread legs. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s sensors notified him that this person's charisma and submission values reached record numbers.

"So I know this whole situation is weird but that was sexy right?"

"Yeah pretty hot," Pam solemnly agreed.

The wrestler finished his entrance by coming to a stop at the center of the ring and raising his brittle hand in a salute. Screams from the audience grew louder. The clone's father hobbled to the side of the cage yelling inaudible instructions, but the man just held his pose without breaking G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s eye contact. He hadn't been given much latitude when it came to programs simulating feelings, but for a few moments G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. gathered data which normally would have been filtered out. Eye color, jaw angle, lip color. He couldn't help it; he was intrigued by this horror.

While G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. studied the clone, Pam made a stilted attempts at diplomacy. The announcer's joyful tones described the nature, rules, and goals of the fight about to take place as she asked the man his name.

"My father calls me Chris, but in here I'm known as the Pebble." His voice was high for a male but he spoke clearly and without hesitation. "You must be new. It's really too bad this has to be our first meeting." He stopped saluting and placed his long fingers at his hip. "Maybe later we can grab a few drinks and I'll show you both around." He never stopped staring at G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.

"You don't want to fight me Christopher," Pam said. "We're only here to escape something chasing me. If you try and stop me, it not go well for you." She believed herself for the most part. Despite her psychic and supernatural abilities being limited she'd detected weakness in this man. She knew her own strength.

"With all due respect ma'am I have no choice in the matter." The Pebble's lip curled into a half-smile as he gestured toward his father. "I'm just here to do my job. I do what Daddy says."

Jarred, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. tore his eyes off Chris and looked at the shouting wrestler outside the cage. The man waved his arms and pounded on the cage but in like, a really supportive and caring way. Pam nodded her head at the father.

"G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., can you make sure original does not interfere? If we must fight, I want fair fight." The cat gave her a thumbs-up and jumped out of the ring. Pam was more than a match for the attractive stranger and he had no intention of being on the receiving end of her fury once more. _Perhaps the father can help us get out_ , he mused. _No need to be here longer than necessary._ A bell rang somewhere. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. winced as he heard two bodies smack together. _I hope she doesn't hurt him too badly_. _He seems nice._


	5. Chapter 5

Pam intended to end the fight quickly. When the bell sounded she charged directly toward Christopher hoping to hurl him against the cage and render him unconscious. Even as she lowered her shoulder while throwing her body at his chest, the plan seemed simple and effective. Pam almost finished congratulating herself on the restraint she was showing this imbecile before she realized the wrestler remained unfazed. Spindly fingers wrapped around her arms, pulling Pam into his solar plexus. The Pebble absorbed the full force of Pam's charge but apparently didn't feel it. She heard bones splinter under his jacket and even forced her shoulder to plunge several inches into chest tissue. Christopher pushed her back to the center of the ring. He paused to wipe away a trickle of blood running down his mouth, staring at the red smear on his palm.

"A good start," he said with a hint of amusement. He placed his palms flat on his pectoral muscles and pushed against them, forcing the cavity Pam made to pop out like blowing air into a crushed water bottle. A few specks of blood stained the white floor. "Now what did you say your name was?"

"Pam." She was still processing how Christopher was able to withstand the pain he should be feeling.

"Pam nice to meet you. I know it's rude to skip pleasantries but may I ask a question?" He slowly paced the edges of the ring with the same confident and improbable gait as before. Pam was not a fan of his insolence. _Whatever you are, you not understand what I'm capable of._ She lurched forward and sidestepped a rapid chop, responding by grabbing her broken kendo stick with both hands and shoving the pointed end through Christopher's left bicep. Before he could respond she jumped back to the center of the ring with teeth bared.

"By all means." Pam studied the wrestler, judging whether her show of dominance gave him pause. He'd stopped pacing and his face no longer wore a mask of politeness but of determination. He stared back at her with furrowed brows, grasping the stick with his right hand.

"You're clearly an accomplished warrior," he said as he pulled the stick from his arm. Blood and an unidentified fluid gushed from the wound, further staining the mat. "Throughout your many battles, have you ever felt pain?" He maintained eye contact. At the same time he opened his mouth so wide that Pam could clearly see his contorted uvula. She thought she heard clicking as his jaw continued to descend. A slimy pink tube rose from his throat, winding itself along the discarded weapon. Damp spots of oil and saliva appeared at the Pebble's feet.

Pam knew she could not let herself be intimidated. "Who are you to ask me such questions? I am Pam, scourge of Wasteland. My hands are stained by blood of raiders and my heart hardened by nuclear furnace." She scoffed, turning her back on Christopher and lifting her arms toward the crowd. "I feel no pain. I AM pain!" The crowd surged with excitement, alternating between chants of "Pam" and "pain."

A loud gulp prompted her to face her adversary once more. The kendo stick had disappeared from sight and Christopher's mouth had returned to an acceptable size. Yet Pam detected something in his eyes that stopped her taunts. The stoic, confident façade which previously faced her was gone, replaced by the look that a radstag wore after being chased by a mongrel pack for a week. "You _are_ pain? I'm sorry to learn that." His voice was almost too quiet to hear. "But I still have a job to finish." His heels tapped softly in her direction.

The suggestion of pity in his tone did not settle well. "I not need your sympathy." She balled her hands into fists.

"Well what about your empathy?"

When Christopher entered arm's reach Pam showered him with blows which his frail arms deflected as best they could. For a minute the ring was a flurry of movement, tangled limbs flailing and thrashing against the other. Though Christopher's avian bones had mostly shattered by this point he countered Pam with a series of sturdy chops. Each blow he landed was repaid in double, her bloodlust fueled by the crowd's jeers and her own fury. Several dumb mistakes in the Pebble's defense coupled by an imprecise punch getting caught in his boa allowed Pam to bounce him off the ropes and crush his femur with a roundhouse kick. He landed face down on ring, fresh injuries leaking fluid. Even though his leg lay sprawled at an unusual angle, he used his other relatively healthy limbs to lean himself against the turnbuckle. The tired expression remained but he appeared otherwise functional. After taking a few moments to catch his breath Christopher pulled himself up to stand on top of the turnbuckle, much to the crowd's pleasure. The sound of bone grinding on bone was louder than the vomiting of several drunken audience members.

"How could you feel empathy for me?" spat Pam. She asked her question after some heavy breathing; the limits of this world seemed to be exertion-based. "We've known each other for literally five minutes."

"True, but I think we're more similar than you realize." Christopher gestured at the audience, his broken wrist flopping with the motion. "Listen, you're from another world. You know what it's like outside the ring." He grimaced, staring at the sea of green "Princess" signs. "But the pain of the ring is all I know." He turned his head to see G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. conversing with his father on the outside of the cage. "The man who cloned me is the only friend I've got. I've not been here very long, but for as long as I've been conscious he's cared for me. He taught me how to survive in this arena, how to please the crowd." The Pebble looked away when G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. noticed his gaze and gave him a sheepish wave. "Tonight the WrestleMania prize is the Shadowwalker title belt, but every night for me the goal is the same. I cannot disappoint my father. Not one time."

At the mention of the belt Pam's gaze flitted to the ceiling. Suspended from a rope outside the cage hung an ebony strap with a ruby-plated buckle. She reached out with invisible hands and sensed it contained far more energy than any other entity in the stadium. The Pebble noticed her interest.

"That's the Shadowwalker belt. I suspect if you win this match it will allow you to escape this world." He launched himself from the turnbuckle, elbow aimed at Pam's skull. "But I can't let you win!"

Despite the bizarre circumstances, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. found himself quite enjoying his conversation with Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson. As it turned out, not only was he an accomplished wrestler, but also was in the middle of several philanthropic projects which he supported with his acting career. He also spoke at length about his cloning experiment and how proud he was of his son. _An honest gentleman. A genuine wrestle-boy,_ he mused.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s warm feelings were interrupted by a flash of green light at the opposite end of the ring. The crowd hissed upon sighting the new fighters, but G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. recognized them as the interlopers who seemed to be hunting Pam. A cold bead of sweat ran down his fuzzy forehead. His ability to jump between worlds was altered upon entering WrestleMania and he knew he just had to find the trigger to give his powers back. But he couldn't make the jump if he was torn in half by these trackers.

The Rock also seemed uneasy about the new competitors. He tensed his muscles and spoke sternly. "I'll gather the remaining wrestlers and try to hold them off. Warn your friend. If you must leave our plane, then so be it." He drew a flip phone from his belt and punched some numbers. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. began to climb the cage to get closer to the whirlwind of activity inside. Before he was out of earshot, The Rock bellowed "G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.!" The cybercat froze and squinted down on the beloved American icon. "Please take care of my son."

Pam could tell the cadence of their fight had changed. Aside from the irregular attack patterns which resulted from the new ways his bones articulated, she could sense desperation in Christopher's wild swings. Punches with too much force, an overextended leg sweep, all frantic attempts to cause her real damage. She knew she was still far stronger than him, but his unwillingness to yield earned her begrudging respect. Even with torn muscles he'd managed to pick up some stairs attached to the ring and throw an aerial assault off balance. She redirected herself midair and landed on the cage's side. He lunged after her, she jumped toward him and both their fists smacked against the other's abdomen. Pam landed on her feet, skidding to a halt against elastic ropes. She clutched her stomach, impressed that the Pebble's blows remained powerful. Yet her own strike caused her foe, now hanging on a high corner of the cage, to splutter out strands of thick green mucous. _Die, fool. You had fun, now be good clone and give up._

"Pam! They're here!" G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s voice broke her concentration. She tried to find what G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. was talking about but Christopher had already seized the opportunity. He fell upon her with the grace of a beautiful man spider and ferocity of ten Super Mutants, stringy fingers cracking whip-like beside her face. She raised her arms and jumped back, feverishly deflecting his strikes. She minded her feet and kept a few steps ahead of the Pebble's clumsy pace, but she did not enjoy being on the defensive. He lifted his arms above his head and nearly brought them down on Pam's shoulders, but she summoned her strength and caught his wrists as they descended. The fluid-soaked floor of the ring cracked, but Pam held firm. They glared at each other they struggled, frozen in their opponent's grip.

"Why you fight so hard?" Pam growled. "Give up!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Christopher pushed his wrists down harder. "I have a reason to fight." He glanced over his shoulder to see his father standing on the announcer's table, shouting commands to dozens of wrestlers clustered into a phalanx of ladders and folding chairs. The extradimensional fighters approached at a slow pace, but their calm demeanor made him worry about his dad. "That is why I don't give up."

"Okay, cut out sanctimonious bullshit." Nothing was less interesting than a moralizing 5-day-old. "You don't think I have reason to fight?" Pam's exasperation gave her strength. She summoned her energy and launched both of them skyward. As they ascended, she stretched out her palm toward the assembled fighters, most of whom were being beaten to a pulp by the hunters. "Christopher, everyone has reason to fight. From John Cena to Hulk Hogan, every being you meet has own motivations. Whether those reasons are good or bad is up for debating." As they smashed through the top of the cage, Pam pointed at the audience. "Even humans watching us fight. They're here because they want to be. Even if think the 'why' of why they're here is dumb, doesn't mean you have moral high ground. We all just trying to do what we think is best."

"Huh."

They reached the peak of their arc and hovered at the top of the arena. Time seemed to slow. A blast of noise erupted from all around them, half from the viewers' cheers and half from the literal energy blasts which crumpled defending wrestlers. A hundred constellations from camera flashes twinkled from the stands. Below them, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. screeched that they had to leave NOW.

"And what's your 'why,' Pam?"

She had released his wrists which now sagged at his side. While they sank down Pam tried to interpret Chris' face. Where before had been a warrior now there was a child. She sighed. "A story for another time." They plummeted back to the ground, staggering as they landed next to the hole at the cage's top. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. stumbled toward them, the black title belt in paw. Wind howled around the trio.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. stretched the belt and started buckling the three of them together, but Chris stopped him. "I have to get my dad! He's still down there!" Green lights flashed up from the edge of the cage. Fate was not on the side of WWE.

The feline perceived the fear in Chris' voice. "Listen. Chris." He put his paws on the Pebble's fractured shoulders. "Your father cares about you very much. He asked me to keep you safe. It's not safe back there." He spoke softly. "We can keep you safe." Pam nearly protested, but recognized it was not to her advantage to argue at this time.

Chris' voice trembled. "I don't know what to do." Through the cage's mesh wire he saw his father stand alone among a pile of crumpled bodies. The foreign shapes closed in on him. The Rock turned his back on the enemy and brought his hand up in a salute.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. hugged Chris. "Trust us."

Still shaking, the clone nodded. He looked down at his father's face before it was engulfed in darkness and brought his own spindly hand to his forehead. The three vanished in a column of white light. The last thing Chris saw was a smile.

Roachie studied the battlefield, now littered with corpses of dead wrestlers and unlucky fans. Trash Hulk and Metal Husband finished pushing debris out of the way so they could observe the markings left behind when their prey jumped worlds. They converged on a perfect circle burnt into the center of the ring. The robot scanned the symbols which ran along the circle's perimeter. Trash Hulk licked the mat's burnt edges.

"Tastes like pizza."

The Mr. Handy beeped in confirmation, then slid a communicator to Roachie. He snatched it and brought it to his antennae.

"Yes sir. It's just as you said. Pursuit proceeding as planned."


	6. Chapter 6

_So pass'd we through that mixture foul_

 _Of spirits and rain, with tardy steps; meanwhile_

 _Touching, though slightly, on the life to come._

 _For thus I question'd: "Shall these tortures, Sir!_

 _When the great sentence passes, be increased,_

 _Or mitigated, or as now severe?"_

The Shadowwalker belt prevented them from separating while they fell. Though Pam was grateful to be rid of her pursuers, she now found herself tied to a man she'd previously tried to beat to death. No one knew how long the plane shift would take which led to an uncomfortable stretch of quiet and shifting gazes, none of the three daring to break the silence as they descended a featureless vortex with no discernible light. At one point she felt G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. inhale before making some inane comment which she promptly aborted by pinching his soggy fur. _Now is not good time_.

The smell of pizza hit them after several minutes. Soon after Pam realized she was undergoing a change. Her clothes morphed and she could sense her abilities gain strength. Her companions were altered too though neither spoke, realizing they didn't understand the situation enough to say more than "Oh geez that's new." They'd all figure it out eventually.

Their journey to the Corridor proved mercifully short. Before any real tension developed the trio hit the ground with a thud. Pam still couldn't see anything. She pulled herself to her feet, dragging Chris and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D along since they were still attached at the waist. But the ground felt much different than any surface they were used to. Pam's new combat boots trod along some sort of stone floor, but she struggled to tread through some viscous substance that came up to her knees. Pam tried to access automated maps or any internal computer interface, but again her abilities were restricted. She had to rely on magical intuition to pinpoint an exit.

Damp and sticky sleet began to float down from above.

After several more minutes of trudging in silence, Pam felt pulled toward an unidentified source. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s head jerked up as well and he paddled in the same direction. Chris tried to help as best he could, but the odor of pizza grew stronger and raunchier, and he really was not about that. When they finally found the thing which called them closer, Pam's only sense was that of standing at a cliff's edge, shivering against the cold. She still could not see.

"Pam, maybe we could-"

No one will ever know what the three of them could do. Pam knew she had to keep moving, so down they went off the cliff. Immediately following Pam's leap she witnessed a That's So Raven-style vision. Out of the darkness appeared an elderly woman draped in a dark purple robe. Her gnarled, fungus-covered face drew close to Pam's own, and she could felt this woman's pupil-less eyes boring into soul. In her left hand she held a paper bag which Pam knew was full of delicious Arby's meat slabs, and in her right she held a white and green disc. Pam reached out but grasped at nothing. While they descended a frail voice whispered in her ear.

 _Wash out the blood from sinful hands_

 _Escape my world of Comic Sans_

 _Seek out a stud you know too well_

 _A flag unfurled inside this hell_

Luckily the drop remained brief and the landing soft, primarily because they now found themselves treading tomato sauce in a rank and cheesy swamp. While G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. appeared to enjoy the exercise, Pam preferred not to die with lungs full of grease and so swam to a nearby ledge. She heaved the three of them up over the side with ease and they sat for a while, panting. Sleet continued pelting their sauce-drenched clothes, conveniently cleaning off the majority of the marsh's remains.

Pam tossed off the now-powerless Shadowalker belt and examined her new appearance. The clothes were familiar- red dress with fur trim, military-grade boots, white sunglasses. She also felt the comforting weight of a steel battleaxe strapped to her back. _Acceptable for now_. Her companions too had changed. Chris' wounds vanished and bones were intact once more. He now faced a different problem, as he'd spawned wearing a full suit of knight's armor that had not been crafted with his frame in mind. His spindly fingers twirled a flat shield with a game show host's visage engraved directly into its wood. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. was naked and content to cover his junk with a slice of pepperoni he found floating in the swamp. Chris tried his best not to stare.

"Well," asked the cat, "now what?"

Pam pointed. The quagmire they'd emerged from lay next to the ruins of a dilapidated fortress. From where they stood, they saw a cobblestone path cut through rocky cliffs which appeared to lead to a bridge in the distance. She did not wait for her companions. The witch's words struck a nerve within her and she would not stop until she solved this riddle. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. cheerfully followed in her footsteps while Chris clanked along behind, clutching his sagging armor.

As the trio reached the bridge they noticed several objects of interest. Firstly, the bridge was made of pizza. Straight up. Secondly, the bridge stretched about half a mile over a misty expanse before connecting to another cliff upon which a huge castle was built. Thirdly, the castle too was made of pizza.

"G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., is this really all pizza?" Pam questioned, irritated by the thought that her suspicious were true.

He nodded. "Affirmative, ma'am. The sauce and toppings indicate pepperoni and the crust confirms it's no pasta." He sounded disappointed.

Pam ignored his sour tone and focused on the castle's spire. At its peak flew a flag, though she couldn't make out any details from this distance. "We go there," she stated plainly. The witch had mentioned a flag. No one could or wanted to argue, so they continued making their way across the bridge.

"Pam, you never ended up saying what you were doing this journey for." Chris tried to probe politely, but his interest overwhelmed him. "How come you're all the way out here instead of back in your home world?" G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s audio sensors perked up. He had wanted to enquire why Pam didn't return home during their first meeting, but he'd become so caught up in his own narrative he'd forgotten to ask.

She didn't turn around to face Chris. Though he'd proven resilient, she neither trusted nor respected him. But it wasn't often anyone cared enough to ask about her past. "A lot of bad things happen in my world. I try to fix them. It go wrong. Now I look for someone."

"Darlin' everyone's lookin' for someone, right?" His youthful enthusiasm was too genuine to dampen. Pam chuckled. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. shuddered at the sound; it was unnatural.

"This is true." She didn't allow time for more questions since they had reached the bridge's other side. What waited for them was a crumpled body laying at flight of stairs leading to the encrusted castle. Pam studied the corpse while G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. stripped it of its now unnecessary belongs- robes made of pizza and bottles of Mountain Dew. The unfortunate victim's flesh comprised mainly pepperoni pizza, though its disfigured face was solid red. All three noticed claw marks which raked the body numerous times, presumably leading to its demise. Chris removed his helmet and placed it on his breast.

"We go now." Pam noted the wounds continued to seep marinara; clearly whatever killed this being still hunted in the area. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. and Chris nodded, but the robo-feline stopped to dress himself in the dead creature's clothes. While he struggled to fit his furry form into squishy robes, Pam felt several new presences. Sure enough, a tall, armored warrior appeared on the bridge behind them, halberd at his side. Pam unsheathed her battleaxe, walking calmly toward this new foe.

She came within 15 feet of the knight before a shrill hillbilly shriek pieced the air.

"Run!" yodeled an unseen speaker. "Don't let 'im git you too!"

As the warning faded the knight dropped its halberd and stretched out its arms. One side sprouted brown tendrils which twisted into an ethereal claw, and from the other burst a grotesque tyrannosaur head with glowing red eyes. Pam was not afraid, but knew that practicality served as a better guide than pride. She erected a wall of flame between her and the blood dinosaur before booking it off the bridge. Chris and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. were way ahead of her.

 _I hope I don't get used to this stupidity_ , she thought as the dino-knight lunged after them.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite Pam's best efforts to hamper their pursuer with hunks of pizza, the blood dinosaur refused to slow. With the hillbilly's shouted guidance the three monsters managed to climb several cheese-coated staircases without being eaten. But she knew they couldn't keep this frantic pace. Chris' ventilators had already kicked into overdrive and G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. didn't have the time to summon horses. _Must act soon_.

"How strong could dinosaur be?" Pam shouted up at the green-haired bumpkin scrambling in front of them. He pulled G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. up a crusty ledge before chucking some slices at the knight, then continued fleeing. Pam did likewise for Chris, noting the dinosaur enjoyed the mid-race snack. She put her arm around Chris and leaped forward onto a stretch of flat cobblestone. If they sprinted, they might widen the gap between hunter and prey.

"That there body y'all saw was mah good friend #Noid!" The yokel's breath came in sharp bursts. "Now lemme tell y'all somethin' #Noid was a damn good fighter, ya hear? Best dang pizzamancer this side of Kentuck if I do say so mahself." He jerked his thumb at G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. "Now he's dead and some furbag's wearin' his skivvies!"

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. shrugged. "What's a hashtagnoid?"

Pam wasn't convinced. Noticing they were about to scramble up an incline again, she suggested she stay and fight to buy them time. "I can hold it back. And no one will be in way." She ran her fingers along her battleaxe's hilt, excited by the prospect of finally having a worthy opponent.

"Well just wait a dang second," their guide spluttered. "If yer so willin' to get yer dick torn off and thrown in the ocean, at least let us git to the fountain. There's a narrow pass so he won't be able to git around ya if ya wanna go and fight 'im."

"A choke point!" Chris exclaimed. "Certainly that will give us an advantage!"

Pam glared at the Pebble, though he seemed not to notice. She'd already resisted bringing him along. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.'s ability to shift dimensions proved useful, but the wrestler had yet to prove his worth. As of now no one could match Pam's strength, and she'd been running too long to not reward herself with some fun. As the group scrambled down a cheesy cliff, they reached a flat plane which contained a circular pool of ankle deep water.

"Green boy! Take rest of them to top!" Pam ordered. Even as she unbuckled her battleaxe the water trembled from the shock of the lumbering dinosaur's steps. The guide seemed to want to stay, but the tenor of Pam's voice caused him to think better of it. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., once again able to stretch his limbs to preposterous proportions, extended an oversized arm to a ledge above the fountain and allowed the hillbilly and Chris to climb up the fuzzy bridge. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. too flung himself to safety and watched Pam from afar. He'd already been on the receiving end of her anger; there was no reason to be within range once she went off.

The blood dinosaur was briefly slowed by the narrow pass. It widened the pass by smashing through with a single thrust from its contorted snout. That second of distraction was all Pam needed. She launched herself into the air and summarily brought her axe down on the monster's knight head. Its helmet caved under the force of the swing and the knight dropped to its knees. The T-Rex head made a half-hearted snap at Pam's arm which she batted away, then repaid by loping off the arm from which the second head protruded. Blood and marinara soaked her combat boots. She felt a shiver of pleasure and did her best to hide her excitement. _Always good to make statement with your entrance._ Her comrades descended the cliff and examined the corpse. Their guide made a visible effort to distance himself from our protagonist.

For the first time Pam was able to get a clear view of the strange creature they'd followed all this way. His frame was real little, scrawny with not a visible muscle. Frail skin barely covered his whole body which was so white it was possible he painted it. A flap of a nose was barely visible between his jutting, rouge-smeared cheeks. Perhaps he had lips. It was impossible to say, since a grody, thin mustache obscured his mouth from view. His eyes too were hard to see through his long lashes. Possibly the most unnerving aspect of this new acquaintance was the fact that every hair on his body seemed to be dyed bright green, from his lashes to his stache, bowl cut to balls (of which Pam had unfortunately caught glimpses during their escape). All in all, just a rowdy, dirty boy.

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. broke the silence. "Say there old chap, didn't catch your name."

The nasty boy's mouth twitched. "Nice to meet y'all. The name's Scum. But most folks call me 'The Junker.'"


End file.
